Ruminations
by Susannah
Summary: A future AU fic. The war is over but there are still past demons to fight, and things to come to terms with. Ginny is alone, but not for long... DracoGinny
1. One

Disclaimer: i own nothing.

A/n: This started as a flight of fancy, so there is a large degree of randomness! But I hope you enjoy it anyway.

One

Ginny watched the leaves fall off the trees, floating on an invisible breeze. They touched the ground without making a noise, without even breathing. One followed another, like a game, racing in their serenity. They hailed the beginning of the fall, the beginning of the end of the year. The end of the sun.

A leaf fluttered onto her hair, some of it blending and merging with her own natural tones. This is where she belonged, in the countryside, with the wildlife. Here she could forget everything that had been. Everything that had happened.

She'd seen torture and pain, death and destruction, people crying, mourning, hurting. In her short twenty-four years she'd seen enough to shake her faith in god, her faith in humans, her faith in friendship. She'd reached the point where she didn't want to live anymore and somehow she'd pulled herself through.

The ministry of magic had dissolved, Voldemort's reign and allies had self-destructed, the magical world had been thrown into chaos. The only thing left for the remaining witches and wizards to do was to disperse into the muggle world, to leave the ruins of the wizarding economy and maybe, when the war had settled and the peace had taken hold, a new magical world would be formed.

Ginny Weasley would not be one of the founders. She had made a vow on the last day of the war, as everything she had ever loved dissolved around her, as everything she'd ever wanted was lost to the ocean of time, that never again would she practise magic, never again would she learn an art that could be used to kill. Never again would she love.

In the countryside, lost far away in the ancient bracken of England's rolling hills, she had found her home. And so Ginny Weasley existed, day in, day out, watching the sun come over the horizon and witnessing it sink back down. Ignoring the ache where her heart used to be, ignoring the pain where her love was.

All of her family had perished, one after another. The numbness of agony had spread through her like the plague; it was an epidemic her generation suffered from.

Before she had run, everyone she knew had had the glazed stare where death had stared him or her in the face. The sympathetic looks that people managed to dredge up for her, as they had nothing left to offer. But it had been a long time since she had seen another persons face. It had been a long time since she had wished to.

Another leaf fell, resting on her stomach. She brushed it off, her hand riding over the swollenness, feeling the new life inside. Even as her belief in love had ebbed and faded, new life had been fashioned in the darkest hour. The darkest hour before the blood-red dawn of a new day. The baby that grew and flourished inside her would be born into a world wrought from innocent blood and formed from suffering. A world where the defenceless would never be safe, and the defensive even less so.

Ginny dreaded to think what quality of life it would have, where it's life would lead, but she had learnt long ago that looking into the future was like setting oneself up to be knocked down. That was something she would not do again. She had forgotten what it had felt like to love, what it had felt like to be dependent, but come the winter months she would have to be strong and reliable, for she would have another mouth to feed, another being to love. She would have to teach herself how.

The baby would be a him, this she already knew. She had a picture vividly floating in her mind, a young boy, mischievous and naïve, hair the colour of fire and eyes the tone of steel. A young man, brave and loving, supportive and respected. She knew though that most babies did not survive for very long, in this day and age there was nothing to support them on. Even through her shattered faith though she could feel instinct in-built into every woman or girl, the intuition of motherhood.

Yet there was no doubt on what the baby would be called. Arthur Draco Weasley. She would not put Malfoy on the end; she would not taint her baby with that name. The cursed name.

The evening was growing cold, the sun sinking in the sky. She needed to eat, to feed her baby. If it had been up to her she would have died months ago, but this baby had already saved her life in so many ways.

Here in the depths of the forest the only food was what she could forage herself, too slow now to hunt, her diet had become vegetarian. Happy as she was, the throes of pregnancy were taking their toll. Throwing-up, mood swings, cravings, all the side effects were draining her of energy.

She claimed to be happy on her own, away from everyone else; she didn't want to be found by anybody.

Until someone did. 


	2. Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing

TwoOne day he was just there. She could feel him watching her as she walked the familiar paths of the wood, just out of sight, but not mind.

She found footprints indented into the soft fallen leaves, feet wide and sturdy, different to her own. Once you'd been alone for as long as she had everything took on a distinctive meaning, from the tiniest broken twig to the way the tree limbs bobbed and blew. Nature had a way of predicting itself that was both refreshing and gentle, mellowness that in her emotional state she needed a lot.

Huddled in the corner of her basic wooden hut, she tried to warm herself against the autumn chill. Against the promise of winter.

Her baby had grown big inside her, like the apples swelling patiently on the tall trees before falling and rolling to carry their seed elsewhere. The baby had become an accepted part of her life, catering for her moods, her loves, her hates. The new presence made her anxious though, although she knew no hurt would befall her, or her baby, after all it was destined to be born, the faint feeling of worry coursing through her felt good again. The faint feeling of anything felt good again.

A sharp rap on the door jolted her to her senses. For the first time she was properly aware of the world around her, seeing the rotting damp wood of her home, the spiders who had made their homes up high, faintly remembering she used to hate them. It was like remembering a different person.

The door hung crookedly on its hinges. This had been her last act of defiance against life, should anyone want to end her they could barge through that door without so much as batting an eyebrow. But as of yet no one had, in fact no one had even come near her hut, this was an area of the woods protected by ancient magic. Ancient Green magic. Her child would be safer here than in a fortress.

She opened the creaking plank of wood slowly, not afraid, but cautious none-the-less. Before her stood a black cloaked figure.

The first thought that ricocheted through her head was coloured by terror. Long nights spent watching, haunted days, tear drops of agony, everything flashed through her mind, as vivid as the day the memories had been sculpted.

The second, more rational thought, followed at a slower pace, taking its time for her brain to digest what she was seeing. A memory floated to the surface of her murky mind of a similar time when the Boy Who Lived had appeared on her doorstep, seeking shelter and escape from the bombardment of hatred. This was not Harry Potter though; she had seen him die, side-by-side with her brother and his unofficial wife, Ron and Hermione Weasley. But she had not cried. By then she had had no tears left.

No, she knew exactly who this was. Really, she had known all along, since the first time when she had put her foot into the print and absently marvelled at the difference.

"Ginny Weasley?" asked a husky voice, coming from the depths of the dark fabric.

"No," she replied without hesitation. "She died a long time past."

He pushed wordlessly past her, taking up all the room in her tiny hut, making it seem smaller than it really was. He slipped the cloak from broad shoulders that had been moulded in the ranks of war and upheld by the adrenalin of fighting, wrapping it firmly around her.

He then set about building a fire in the neglected fireplace. Manually, she noted, he too couldn't bring himself to use magic. Part of her was shamed at their collective fear and part was proud for the breaking of the cycle.

The firelight soon glinted off his silver hair, throwing reflection and light onto her pupils, making her remember days of forgetfulness and tenacity, where tomorrow was still a gift and the present still a blessing.

Mutely he swathed her in himself, drawing her close to him, letting them feed off each other's body heat. With the crackling of the flames as a backdrop and a degree of heat vibrating through her, the redheaded young woman slept better than she had for years.

Deep down, she know the twist of him coming here was a meander that fate had to take. Her baby and her would not survive otherwise. But she still despised him for everything he had done, and everything that he hadn't done

Draco Malfoy was a part of her life once again, but not a part of her heart. Nothing stirred in her frozen heart except the responsibility of motherhood, which became more restless with every passing day.

**Responses**

**Victoria27 - I'm glad you look forward to my new stories/chapters - it makes writing them much more worth it! So there was the second part I hope you liked it :)**

**Skygazing - Thank you so much for your response! Helped me a lot! I actually don't have a beta reader so some of my grammer is a bit wobbly. If you were interested in being a beta reader though it would be really great! Just think about it :)**

**xx Susannah xx**


	3. Three

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Three

They coexisted peacefully, falling into routine.

Draco would go and hunt for their food in late morning after a breakfast of apples and blackberries – the most plentiful fruits available. In the early afternoon Ginny would sleep until the sun started to ebb in the sky when she would wake up, like clockwork, and go for a walk on her own through the darkened woods leaving the blonde-headed man asleep on blankets in the corner of the hut.

Of course she knew that Draco followed her, mirroring her steps in silence, flitting from tree to tree, no less distinguishable from the shadows themselves. He had been sent here by his own volition she understood, and if something happened to her baby he would have nothing left to live for either. They had that in common.

When she returned she would always find him in exactly the same position she left him in, this always made her smile. Especially when he had little bits of twig still stuck in his hair.

Though after the first exchange never once did they speak to each other. A vow of silence had fallen between them, in many ways this alone was the one thing that allowed them to get through day after day, night after night, waiting for a fateful day that came ever nearer.

And all the while the baby grew, the one link between them, their saviour and their curse. The noises of the forest expanded to fill the silence that hung between them and soon it too became part of the routine.

She had to admit to herself that it was nice to see a human face, to be held when she was cold and be accompanied when she was alone. That was as far as her appreciation extended for Draco though. There were some things that just couldn't be forgotten.

Soon enough the trees were naked in their anticipation for winter, creaking in the night, whispering in the day. Rains came for weeks on end, making the hut dismally damp and smelly; giving Draco a cold that Ginny could hear sniffling in the early hours of the morning.

A 'common cold', used to be such a rudimentary virus, something cured by the wave of a wand and a warm bed. Now they had neither.

Ginny no longer slept at night, content to watch the milky moon work its way across the sky night after night, never the same. She soon became aware of Draco watching her behind slitted eyes, momentary guilt that he would not sleep unless she did flashed through her, but was gone as quickly as it came. He was here of choice to look after her, to keep her alive, which would maybe keep him alive at the same time.

One day, as the sun drew low in the sky, the virus broke over Draco, sending him feverish and delirious. Ginny sat by him, wondering what she should do, remembering nothing. Eventually she ground some mint together with some lavender from their herb cupboard. Usually everything in there was used for cooking but this time she made an exception. She mixed the crushed herbs with boiling hot water and made Draco breathe it in, trying to clear his sinuses and his head. Once it had cooled slightly, she smeared some across his chest, the potent scent mixing with the odour of the cabin making the atmosphere hot and tepid. Ginny retrieved some cold water from the outside pitcher, having to break the ice first. She soaked a rag in it and bathed Draco's forehead as he muttered in his sleep, words just out of her hearing. All night she sat, watching him sleep, until the sun of a new day breached the horizon. Then she curled into a foetal ball at his feet, the perfume of lavender and mint still suspended in the air, the fever fading as the night did.

Ginny woke the next afternoon to find some still steaming soup next to her. She was wrapped in many layers leaving her insulated and safe. Draco was nowhere to be seen.

She ate the soup slowly, savouring the taste. The next thing she wanted to do was learn how to make bread, but Ginny thought she may have to wait until the spring for that dream because there was no wheat or eggs in the winter. Arthur stirred inside her, kicking restively against the tummy walls, making the redhead smile peaceably to herself. He lay inside her like lightning waiting to strike, he was fated to be strong. Stronger than she ever was, stronger than she could ever be.

Draco entered, ducking beneath the low door, his frame brushing the ceiling. He didn't look at her directly, but the flutter of his eyelids as he darted a glance at her she took as her thanks. She didn't need thanks; she was repaying a debt, a debt owed long ago, in another lifetime.

She rubbed her tummy calmingly as the fire was lit before her eyes. Together they worked soundlessly but smoothly, each knowing their place, each doing their job. Soon enough though, their routine would be obscured by more pressing matters.

Next chapter we hear from Draco's point of view, his take on things…

**Responses**

**Victoria27 – I'm glad you like the subtleness! I'm finding this story really easy to write, even though the chapters are a bit short (blushes) **

**Mo the Deatheater – thank you for your review, I'm delighted you like the descriptions!**

**Skygazing – it is rather sad isn't it? But thank you very much for emailing me, and your offer, I am very happy ****J**

**Rainpuddle13 – well this is the third part so it looks like it will certainly be more than a one-shot. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**xx Susannah xx**


	4. Four

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Four  
  
Draco found himself in the middle of the freezing woods. He had moments like this where it felt as if there was something inside him fighting to get out, something long forgotten, an awareness. Such instants passed quickly though, leaving him number than before.  
  
Ginny was ahead of him beneath the unadorned bobbing boughs, her deep red hair glinted occasionally in the moonlight. He both loved and hated her hair, he loved it because of the gentle softness it represented, the femininity, the beauty, he hated it because of all the same reasons. Something he would never touch again, someone who would never love him.  
  
She had stopped, her head bowed reverently as if praying. He would have thought she was had it not been for the hands entwined protectively across her tummy. Suddenly she dropped to her knees, a groan escaping her lips to echo off the stark landscape.  
  
Draco was at her side immediately, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. He carried the redhead gently back to the cabin, rocking her slightly from side to side to calm her shaking.  
  
As they reached the threshold of the hut she doubled in his arms, a contraction ripping through her in all its painful glory. He placed her gently on the blankets, propping her aubern head with his thick woollen cloak. He was at a loss as what to do next, he'd never so much as witnessed a baby being born, let alone been trained in midwifery.  
  
Draco was shocked to find himself afraid. Fear had been the strongest weapon used against the light side, and so he had been taught not to feel it. Ever. And in this way the advanced instruction for the 'good' army sucked the soul of each individual soldier. Take away fear and you take away the ability to feel.  
  
The war had illustrated the point that good needs evil to exist and vice versa, else chaos reigns or there is reform to the point of repression. Both sides are needed to pedal the balance, to keep the world afloat. This time they had learnt it the hard way.  
  
Ginny moaned, writhing against him in an effort to escape the pain. He tenderly smoothed the hair back from her forehead feeling her pulse beat through his hand. He found the wet rag she had used for him when he had been ill and soaked it in cool water before pressing it soothingly to her brow. Ginny's slight frame calmed straight away, sinking back into the folds of the blankets, sighing in what could almost be contentment. If Draco imagined hard enough.  
  
Draco stayed next to her as her waters broke, holding her hand as she moaned and screamed. When she had grasped his hand tightly in her own he had been shocked to say the least, the only touching between them had been in the freezing depths of the night when they had huddled for warmth. But after he lost feeling in his fingers he realised it wasn't so much a gesture of familiarity, more something she needed. Just like all his services were.  
  
Morning broke and yet the contractions still shattered through Ginny, pitching her yells and cries. Her breathing was irregular and laboured; in a bid to help her he began to talk. He talked about anything and everything, about the weather, the seasons, the world immediately outside their window. She seemed to calm to his voice, letting it drift through her.  
  
But eventually he ran out of stuff to say and slowly he allowed his mind to drift back. Back to the days of sunshine and light, when life was a game and you had to play but only when it suited you.  
  
He talked of Hogwarts to her, of professors and homework, of quidditch and Halloween. It seemed that once the floodgates had been opened he couldn't stop himself; a part of him eagerly opened the doors that had been locked by pain.  
  
And Ginny listened, she hung on every word, remembered every instance. Slowly, her breathing evened and she rode the contractions, one after another, coming quicker and quicker. Finally the baby worked its way into the light of the chalky sun that escaped through the window, Ginny pushed and sighed, heaving and relaxing.  
  
Draco caught the baby in a clean, warm cloth, holding the precious bundle to him. A tiny tuft of vivid red hair could be seen on the crinkled skin of the newborn, it did not cry though, not a sound, instead stared at him through eyes as blue as a cornflower. At the time, Draco had panicked; blue eyes didn't run in his family, there was nothing to mark this baby as his. Seeds of doubt were sown. Later Ginny explained that all babies had blue eyes when they were born.  
  
Ginny had tugged the baby towards her, cradling it in her arms. With her hair stuck sweatily to her skin and her eyes dark with exhaustion, Draco thought he'd never seen someone looks beautiful. Never seen someone look so alive.  
  
In the while he had been in this forest with her – he'd lost track of time, days, years – her eyes had been as dead as a frozen lake in the winter, it was refreshing to know she could still show emotion. Could still feel something within her anaesthetized heart.  
  
Ginny was an inspiration to them all. To all the survivors.  
  
Responses 

**Victoria27 – thank you for pointing that out! Much appreciated. Hope you enjoyed this chapter also.**

**Ginny2442 – thank you for reviewing both my stories! You get a gold reviewing star :-)**

**Mo the Deatheater – another part! Their relationship is a bit weird, but to be honest I have no idea where this story is coming from, it just kind of pours out, so we're all waiting to see what happens next (me included).**

**Poky – thank you so much for your review! It gave me a BIG high, it's really good to know you liked it that much. It is angsty but hopefully the whole story won't be that way.**

**Thanks everybody!**

**xx Susannah xx**


	5. Five

Disclaimer : I own nothing.

Five

Ginny had fallen asleep on his shoulder, Arthur clutched firmly to her chest, her red hair snaking down Draco's chest, urging him to touch it. She breathed the heavy deep inhalation of someone asleep through pure exhaustion. Sensing it was safe; Draco took a tendril of fire and entwined it between his fingers marvelling at the vivid softness it possessed.

It was amazing that even through all the death and destruction there was still beauty in the world, there was still harmony, there was still peace. He stroked her hair, the mere action serving to calm him.

The birth had been trying indeed, and he hadn't even been having the baby. Gently he eased himself from beneath Ginny, propping her and the baby against the wall. He stood at the cramped window and watched the sun gingerly explore the forest, its rays working across the bare trees.

The baby stirred, whimpering against Ginny's chest. Draco studied it thoughtfully. A Christmas baby, born on Christmas day, through all odds here it was as peaceful and gentle as any tiny child.

Ginny's eyes slowly opened, heavily as though weighted down by sleep. She smiled down at the baby that nuzzled into her clothes.

"Thank you," she whispered, barely audible above the silence that he had only just noticed.

Draco gave a sharp nod, turning his profile to study the outside world again so he wouldn't have to deal with the inner turmoil.

He shouldn't have started talking, he shouldn't have opened the doors to their past that were meant to have been forgotten. And yet he had, and for the first time in years he felt something like peace work its way into his life, settling just above his heart. Hogwarts seemed like the experiences of a different person, a young boy named Draco Malfoy who didn't understand the world and couldn't be bothered to. Who was swayed by power and guided by lust. A boy who knew nothing more than what he could see and nothing less than what he needed.

At the same time though, it was a boy of dreams and hopes, anticipations and vision, he was told he could go far. They all had been. Some of them wanted to become Aurors and Apothecaries, teachers and secretaries. But all those ambitions had been shattered as the skulls of death rose into the air, one after the other, planting fear in innocent hearts.

Draco had been torn between his loyalties. His father had branded him as a deatheater from the first day he had screamed to his first steps. His mother had never had a say in the matter. But as he worked through school he became his own person. A person to be reckoned with. An ice-façade to rival his father's.

Slowly though he had drifted to the dark side, the lust for glory and power being all encompassing, all prevailing. Until one fateful day when he had come face to face with the infamous Harry Potter and his wife, Ginevra Weasley.

He had never seen someone that beautiful until then, he had never watched someone so carefully, never loved someone so whole-heartedly. She had filled his vision, taken his life in with a glance. And, though the war raged, he didn't care all he wanted was for her to be his. He had been selfish then.

She had been happily married to Potter; they had a daughter, Holly. Holly was the embodiment of everything that could be strived for in the days of war, everything that people wished for, a young child to carry on the line of wizards, to soften the pain of losses.

But then one day Holly had been taken, from the light side to the dark side. Never to be seen again.

The youngest Weasley had been rent with sorrow then, her heart clenched with pain and suffering. Draco had watched it all, unable to help, unable to do anything. He had been a double agent in those days, following the footsteps of the late Severus Snape, doing anything would have exposed him. So he had to listen to Potter and the Weasley brothers beseeching him to return their niece and daughter, to find her and bring her back.

But he could not; he couldn't even find the whereabouts of the little girl. After that his position had been exposed and the hunt had begun. He was tracked every second of the day, he couldn't even sleep during the night, instead in quick snatches every few days or so.

Finally he had found solace in the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix, once again bringing him into contact with the now divorced Ginny and her loveliness.

Her and Potter and split, the pressure of their missing daughter tearing them apart bit by agonizing bit.

Day by day, Ginny said less and less, one family member after another was taken from her, and with each one Draco felt her life ebb through agony. He was sure one day she would just cease to exist, one day she would implode through loneliness and sorrow.

And in this time he learnt to love her. He loved her more than he had loved anything. More than himself, more than life, even more than power.

And seeds that were sown as deep as those of love are, cannot be unsown…

**Responses**

**Mo the Deatheater – well here is the fifth part; I hope you enjoy it as you have enjoyed the other ones!**

**Actrez – it is a bit different (a bit random to be honest) but I'm having fun writing it, even if it is a little sad. This chapter answers a few more questions methinks.**

**Poky – 'awesomeosity', good word! All will be revealed in time! :)**

**Ginny2442 – I'm glad you are enjoying my stories, I will try and update 'As Thunder Rolls' soon, but I have a bit of writer's block :S ug.**

**Victoria27 – your wish is my command! Enjoy!**

**Thanks everyone again – you guys are great :)**

**xx Susannah xx**


	6. Six

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Six

Ginny woke, confusedly, to screaming. Who was screaming? Did she know them?

These had always been the first thoughts in the dark days, days of terror. Of pain. The selfish aspect of them never ceased to amaze her, but it was humankind's nature – first feelings in relation to how it could affect them.

As the world slowly became into focus she became aware of a small body struggling against her chest and making the most deafening racket. She looked down into eyes that vividly reminded her of the young man outside the hut at this very moment. It was strange thinking of him as still young, but in all technicalities he still was. But theirs was a generation born before their time and aged before it too.

The last face she'd seen before she'd cracked had been that of her eldest brother, Bill, being led away. He had been laughing hysterically, the torture had finally broken his resolve, the dictatorship they were under making him careless. Lucius Malfoy had watched him go wordlessly before fixing his steely gaze on Ginny. She knew that look. _She was next…_

Draco entering to stand in front of her shook Ginny back to the present. His gaze was easy enough to understand, the baby was still crying as loudly as was possible, he wanted to her quieten it. Last time she'd been with child she'd had the support of as many female relatives and friends as could fit in the delicate walls of Godric's Hollow, now she was completely on her own. But she remembered, oh, how she remembered.

Hesitantly she undid her top, pulling it back from her breasts slowly. She noted that Draco turned sharply away, busying himself with a pot over the fire; she could tell he was watching her still though, out of the very corner of his eyes.

Her baby suckled feverishly at her nipple, creating the strangest sensation in her chest. As Arthur took his fill, his fringed lashes closed onto the porcelain cheeks, he was wrapped in a pale blue cotton cloak that Ginny had brought with her when she had run which gave him the angelic look that only babies can exhibit. Pure innocence.

"You should eat something."

Draco's voice cut through her reverie of watching her baby and drew her eyes to his. They bore into hers with an elapsed intensity. Ginny sucked in a breath. Draco hadn't said a word to her since the birth, almost as if he was trying to make up for his talking of the past, but the familiarity with which he spoke now showed that maybe this would be a common occurrence between them.

"What is there?" she inquired.

As usual there was only left over fall apples and potatoes that had been stored in the makeshift fridge, but they were enough for a big enough meal that satiated Ginny comfortably.

The meal had a considerably different feel than that of any before. The conversation started timidly, like they were testing the surfaces of one another, testing the breakability. But soon it blossomed, easier than either one thought it would, soon it flowed, bantering lightly about anything. Well everything except the future. That was an unspoken taboo between them.

As the evening drew in, they worked in comfortable silence to build Arthur a small cot in the corner using wind fallen branched and old robes and blankets. When it was finished he laid in it peacefully, drifting almost immediately into sleep, content in the warmth and crackling fire.

Ginny and Draco sat near the fire; both interested to see what the other would do next. In the end it was Ginny who broke the silence.

"How did you know I would be here?"

He sat silently for a moment, as though considering what to say.

Finally: "What better way to get away from magic than to go into the heart of it?"

Ginny rationalised this. "This isn't the centre of magic, it's only Green Magic around here."

He laughed. "And what do you think Green Magic is?" When she said nothing in return, he continued, "Green Magic is where it all began, the beginning and the end of everything!"

Ginny darted her eyes towards Arthur and Draco caught the movement.

"You know you will have to tell him. About magic I mean."

The redhead shook her head vehemently. "No. He will not be tainted by the evil that we've had to experience."

Her tone was one that brooked no argument, one that made her a wonderful mother, one that made her a force to be reckoned with. He noted, but disregarded it, for the time being.

"He already is," he said, softly.

She brought her eyes sharply to his, the forgotten fire blazing and sparking in them.

"Not if I can help it," she snapped passionately.

The fire glinted of her hair and danced in her eyes, making her more beautiful, and deadly, than Draco had ever remembered. And finally, after years of winter, the ice around his heart cracked sending heat flooding through his body, mind and soul.

Later, he watched the first stars twinkle from behind a cloud. The first of the new morning, the first of the New Year. Draco watched them, feeling the change in the air, things were shifting, he knew then that great deeds were still afoot and a new horizon was on the way.

**Responses**

**(Can I just say, I'm sorry this took so long!)**

**Skygazing – thank you as ever! Yes there is much yet to come on the Holly front.**

**Victoria27 – it is a little disturbing isn't it? I hope you enjoy this chapter as well (even though it took so long coming).**

**Poky – well here is the sixth chapter! Confuzzling words eh? Lol**

**Ginny2442 – the writer's block has gone, you'll be pleased to know, so the next chapter of As Thunder Rolls will hopefully be up soon :)**

**Aliesha – ah, you will have to see about the Arthur thing, and also the green magic thing… it will all become clearer in time!**

**Mo the Deatheater – yes, Arthur is definitely Draco's son, no mix-ups this time!**


	7. Seven

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Seven

_Holly was gone, she could feel it in her bones, her baby had been taken._

_She didn't need to go to the empty crib and back again as Harry felt he had to, she just sat on the end of the bed and stared at herself in the floor length mirror on the opposite wall._

_Ginny remembered this clearly, looking into her own eyes and seeing nothing but emptiness. No hate, no fear, nothing. Just like the mirror she only reflected the world around her. Much later, when she returned to her own rightful consciousness, when she could talk about the war years without flinching, she likened the state to that of hibernation. Her body still worked but her soul did not._

_Harry bustled around her, masking his pain by trying to attend to hers. But she didn't feel pain any longer, she didn't feel loss, or sorrow, or happiness and so his attempts fell on frozen soil, on a love impossible to recover._

_Within weeks Harry and her barely exchanged a word, she had nothing to say, he was saying nothing. The search parties trailed through all thinkable places, but Ginny knew that her baby was somewhere where nothing could touch her, somewhere they'd never find. But she was not dead, no; at one year old Holly was too strong to be easily killed._

_Harry left her then, drowning his sorrows in drink and other women. Part of Ginny regretted how things had gone, how they had ended up, but most of her just coexisted, feeling and knowing nothing._

_That was until her mother and father; her two rocks in the whole universe, were killed in the crossfire of a Gringotts robbery. Ginny didn't miss the irony that both her parents had been fighting on the front line for decades and in the end were finished by something as minor as theft. Their passing away jerked part of her back to life, she had to mourn them, had to respect their memory. And so she did._

_Burying a parent is possibly worse than anything else save burying a child. Burying two parents was almost enough to send her and her four remaining brothers near to the edge, it was like watching everything that had made you, everything that you remembered, every kiss and hug, fade into the cold, impersonal earth of the graveyard. Like watching your childhood being hollowed out and thrown away._

_After that, her memories faded, blocked out by pain and loss. There were many times that she almost threw away her life just to escape the loneliness, to escape the knowledge that death came to them all. And she would have done, had she not know that her death would cause unnecessary pain to her lasting loved ones._

_So she went on, day-by-day, hour-by-hour. Just functioning, one step in front of another, until the day came when the wizarding world shattered._

The last to be taken had been Bill, he had always been the strongest one of them, and Ginny still hadn't come to terms with his death yet.

Her sleeping was roused by screaming for another morning in a row, the wailing echoed through the tiny hut, bouncing off her diaphragm, vibrating through her wild, forgotten dreams.

She woke to find a baby in her arms, a crown wreathed in fire, an army of shadow, blood still glistening. Blinking twice she cleared the sleep from her eyes. There was no kingdom of flames, just the early morning light venturing to cast shadows across the simple hovel.

And a yearning.

A yearning to capture the ebbing magic that slipped away as the remnants of her dream did. A yearning she'd vowed against, something she'd never thought she would feel again.

Finally, the screaming pierced her thoughtfulness. She quickly guided Arthur's searching mouth to her nipple, feeling – rather than hearing – his measure of relief and contentment.

As the immediacy that Arthur presented had been taken care of she was alerted to a gaping hole in her tiny home.

Draco was out. Although this in itself was not unusual, there was a different feel this time, as though he'd hurried or had been anxious. Minute details such as there being only one roe-wood arrow taken from the quiver on the peg on the wall, there were tiny spillages where hot water had been dripped as it was thrown away, the door was left a fraction open...

It was probably nothing to worry about she rationalised, but Draco was usually painstakingly careful when leaving her alone. Something must have alerted him.

Ginny clutched a now-peaceful Arthur to her and used the wall to help her into a standing position. The wood rubbed off, grimy, on her hands. A repressed part of her recoiled in disgust, this was no place to raise a child. As ever, she ignored the voice. Choices had their consequences; gifts had their price to pay.

She looked out of the window, vaguely cautious as to what it was she would see. The familiar trees at the edge of the clearing greeted her, bending in a light breeze, their bared arms mocking their aura of strength. Nothing appeared to be amiss though, nothing obvious anyhow, except for the feeling lodged deep in her bones.

She was overly tempted to investigate, to track Draco, she knew she could do it – you don't live in a forest without evolving the vital set of instincts that man had tried to substitute with technology. Or magic.

But it was not just her anymore. Today Arthur would be one week old. One day, a New Year, the same circumstances. It would be ridiculous to take him into the cold of the first of January, but also she would not leave him alone, could not leave him alone. She would never put Arthur at the same risk Holly had been.

The fact remained though that Draco could be in trouble, Draco could be dead.

Since the first day when she had resolved to follow her feet, wherever they led her, she was filled with uncertainty, bubbling and knotting inside of her.

Doing something had to be better than doing nothing.

**Responses**

**Poky – a bit hyper eh? Lol, thankee kindly for your comments.**

**Victoria27 – I hope this clears up the child thing! And you'll be happy not to have to wait for this chapter!**

**Skygazing – yes the plot is slowly brewing and thickening :)**


	8. Eight

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

EightThe freezing, January wind blew to her bones, taking her breath away. She clutched Arthur to herself, protecting him from the elements. Ginny looked first left and right, testing the atmosphere, searching for signs of Draco's progress. Finally she turned left and walked cautiously into the forest, feeling the familiar comfort of the Green Magic that had drawn her here in the first place.

She cast a peremptory glance at the tiny hut before losing sight of it between the tree trunks. Her gut instinct led her through the forest, guiding her eyes to miniscule signs that depicted Draco's travel. An indent in the earth, a broken twig, a twisted branch; everything was noted and followed.

Soon she heard voices - or, well, threats – coming from a clearing directly ahead of her. She checked Arthur, reassuring him gently under her breath, willing him not to make a noise. Ginny then trailed a careful path through the bracken to the outcrop of trees, peering through the branches, scared of who, or what, she would see.

Draco stood in his clothes, crafted from deerskin and other available materials they had to them, facing him across the clearing was none other than his father, black robes and all. The stark difference between them never more apparent.

"Draco, Draco, did you _really _think you could hide her away from me? My spies are everywhere; it was only a matter of time before I found her." The cold, familiar voice chilled Ginny, opening doors in her memory that she'd tried to wedge shut forever. Hatred roared through her blood along with the fear, hatred growing from the memories he'd opened.

Draco produced something from his pocket. Ginny stared hard at it, trying to distinguish what it was. When he pointed it at Lucius though it became obvious.

_He had had his wand all this time and never used it? _she marvelled. _For my sake or his own..._

"Lucius, you should not be here. This place is protected." Draco stood firmly; she saw the flicker of his eyelids though. He knew she was there.

The older Malfoy scoffed. "What by you? You're already a dead man, and certainly no son of mine."

Ginny cuddled her baby closer. The same blood ran in his veins as this heartless man. "Don't worry, you'll never be like him," she whispered consolingly. Arthur turned inwards at the sound of her voice, nuzzling her. Ginny smiled, feeling wonder that a baby brought into such a world as this was, could be so untainted.

"Who's there?" barked Lucius, his eyes ticking around the clearing. He had distinctly heard whispering.

Ginny froze in the trees, barely daring to breathe.

"Scared, Father?" Draco spat the word mockingly. But Ginny could still see the worry lines forming slightly in his forehead, and his pulse had speeded up, beating a rhythm in his throat. She felt bad that the worry was her doing.

"She's here isn't she?" Unfortunately, Lucius could read the signs as well, and wasn't afraid of his son's bravado. "Your bitch is here," he crowed. "Come out, come out, little Weasel." He was getting nearer and nearer to the tree Ginny stood behind.

She had to get Arthur to safety and away from this evil. An evil that, irrevocably, ran in his own blood as well.

"_Crucio!_" Ginny halted immediately, waiting for the searing pain that she knew would come. But it did not.

She looked through the branches to find Draco and his father facing off again.

"Didn't I tell you?" Lucius announced. "I've been granted powers that take me to the point of invulnerability." He spoke as though talking about the weather.

"By who?" Draco couldn't help himself.

"I believe that falls under 'none of your business'," the older man announced, looking inexplicably uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Anyway, I believe I was getting close to your whore."

Ginny had no other choice; he was coming straight for her. Seizing the element of surprise, she dodged out of the trees, around a startled Lucius, and ended up standing behind Draco.

"Sorry," she whispered so only he could hear. He heard her but did not acknowledge it; she could tell he was angry by the slight tic in his jaw.

"Ah, what a cute couple." Ginny hid Arthur deeper in the layers of fabric, praying for him to stay silent. "I shall take great pleasure in killing you both." Without further ado, he brought out his wand point it straight at Draco's heart. "_Avada Kedavra!"  
--------------------  
_

_Poky – I'm glad you liked the last chapter! I'm sorry I left this one on a cliffhanger, but I promise to update infinitely sooner than I did this time! And yes there are lots of questions that will all be answered in time._

_Victoria27 – Ah thank you so much for keep reviewing all my stories! It definitely gives me lots of motivation to write, so BIG thank you from me :)_

_Skygazing – yes my grammar seems to be gradually going downhill. Sniffle. But thanks for all the help you've already given via reviews, it has been really, really useful!_

_Lollipopkins89 – I'm very glad you enjoyed it! Hope you liked this chapter also._

_And now for some shameless review mongering (that may or may not actually work), I have a new story if any of you would be kind enough to check it out. Title: Moonlit Carvings. Is quite a different angle for me!  
_

_xx Susannah xx  
_


	9. Nine

Disclaimer: I own nada! Zilch, zip, zero, etc etc.

Nine"_Protego."_

Ginny felt the words whisper around her, murmured from nowhere and yet everywhere at once. They sighed through the undergrowth and the bare braches of the tree. She could have sworn - standing in the cold, winter-beaten forest, clutching her child to her chest, finally realising that no longer did she simply fear for the life of her child – that the voice belonged to one she knew intimately. One that had sung her to sleep in her cradle, held her when the nightmares streamed in with the moonlight, and loved her when she thought no one else could.

It was all in the blink of an eye though; she felt the calming magic that resided in the trees and in the world where they had built their home – for now no longer was their hut simply a structure, it had become a haven – rise up to envelop them.

The deathly curse reflected away, the green light stopping only millimetres from Draco's chest. It flew into a nearby tree, severing one of the huge boughs, sending it toppling into the underbrush.

"Interesting," remarked Lucius, a slightly calculating look appearing in his cold eyes. "_Diffindo Corpal!_"

The jinx spurted out of the elder Malfoy's wand, this time straight on eye-level with Ginny. But invisible protection that had deflected the killing curse still hovered around them, the redhead could still feel it, a forgotten pocket of love had been unlocked from her heart.

The hex was repelled instantly, but Ginny expected this. Lucius, it was clear, didn't, so he was entirely too surprised to act when the curse rebounded towards him.

It glanced across the shoulder of his wand arm, instantly creating a tremendous gash that began to fill with deeply red blood. Apparently Lucius wasn't immune to his own curses.

The man across from them in the clearing swore fluently. Ginny couldn't see Draco's face, but she imagined it was unreadable as ever.

"Don't think I won't be back," Lucius hissed, his features contorted in pain, "_son."_ He stressed the word dangerously before turning and apparating with a pop.

Ginny gripped Arthur impossibly close to her chest with relief. The surrounding forest, that had gone almost mysteriously quiet during the confrontation, now seemed to resume its natural sound level.

"That was far too close," Ginny breathed, not meeting Draco's eyes.

"You should have stayed back at the house," he replied, not looking at her either.

She lifted her pupils to his features abruptly. "I was worried." It came out as half an exclamation, half a whisper.

He studied her now, blatantly, looking for a sign – a clue – to the truth of her statement, to an emotional back up. But he found nothing.

Draco's eyes strayed to the sleeping form in her arms. His son, his flesh and blood. He remembered the night of his conception – how could he forget, and the doors that had rattled on the night of Arthur's birth began to creak in protest as he pried his way into the past.

* * *

_Sunday 20th March_

_Draco had stayed late at the Headquarters, he had some thinking that needed to be done and it couldn't be done at home under the watchful eye of his substitute girlfriend._

_The recent battle had taken hard losses for the Order, and the aura of gloom was difficult to miss. Draco knew that the end was coming; he knew the final battle would be soon. He also knew he would not die._

_His father had gone into hiding – the Fidelius Charm most probably. His only ambition in this life now was to finish the evil that was his elder had cursed his years with. Before the Malfoy king had left the face of the planet, he had told Draco one final thing. Something that would haunt his sleep, his nightmares, his every waking moment, something that he could not dismiss._

_Holly was with them still. Lucius had Holly._

_Draco dipped his head into his hands, knowing it was wrong, but wishing her death rather than a life at the hands of his father. He thought that maybe if he hadn't let his jealousy of Potter consume him so entirely, if maybe he hadn't been quite so in love with Ginny Weasley, then he may have found the little girl, maybe he could have tipped the balance of the war._

"_Still here?" a voice echoed across the small entrance hall, ricocheting off the stone blocks and varnished floor._

_A vision stood across from him, masked in shadow, but visible nonetheless. Draco stared, drinking in the sight as he always did, hoping each time would not be the last._

"_Yes," he replied, giving away nothing with his tone. "I had some important business."_

"_Like playing chess with yourself?"_

_He smiled, though she could not see this. Ginny moved a pawn forward two, a well-known opening. She was white, of course._

_He replied with a move of his own, bringing a black pawn out to meet the white._

"_How are you?" Draco asked before immediately regretting it. That kind of question was not one you asked in times such as these, that kind of answer was not one that should be demanded._

_But she shrugged, coolly. "Have you seen Harry today?"_

_The green envy rebelled inside his stomach, assaulting his inner workings, but not making it into the open. "Of course. He had a hangover."_

"_When doesn't he?" she snorted. "The last hope of the light side – always drunk."_

_The silence that fell between them then negated her statement though. She knew it wasn't fair, it was written in her eyes, in the lines of pain that marred them all._

"_He still loves you." The jealousy clawed inside him, but he did not give in. She would have to find her own way; his love would not be able to guide her. Not the path she led._

"_He loves a memory," she corrected. "Something I no longer am."_

_Draco disagreed. She was still as beautiful as he remembered her from Hogwarts. He reached his hand cautiously across the board, covering hers with his own. She jerked away as if burnt._

"_What do you want from me?"_

* * *

Ok, yes VERY long time wait.

Huge thanks to your reviews go to Victoria27, Actrez, Poky, ShortySC22, GoldenFawkes (really no way lol), Lollipopkins89 and Sweetginny86 .

I'm sorry you people had to wait sooooooo long for this chapter. But I've just gone back to school and it's all busy busy busy, ach. And it was my birthday yesterday. Just thought I'd add that in :)

Xx Susannah xx


	10. Ten

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not a dime.

Ten__

_They_ _faced off, a battle of wills. A mind meld. He broke his gaze from her eyes, allowing it to travel languorously over her curves, along the contours of her body, making it clear what he wanted._

_She watched him watch her, remembered times when he'd done the same and thought she didn't know. Times when he'd loved her and thought that no one knew. Thought that she didn't know._

_Ginny may have lost her view of life, may have lost – misplaced – a part of her soul, but a part of her would always exist, the giggling schoolgirl, the flaring temper, the book lover, the sharp wit, it had been buried beneath grief, but it still existed. The smile stretched slowly across her features, not a product of happiness, but at least it wasn't a meaningless smile as most were these days._

_Harry was far away; she couldn't even feel his protectiveness anymore. She remembered days of pain, when she thought that problems where knowing that the Boy Who Lived did not like her. She remembered days on ease, where the sun it seemed always shone, and every day was as wholesome as the last._

_In comparison that seemed like such a joke now. The pain, the problems, the tears, she could have spent them enjoying her youth, enjoying her life, enjoying the people around her, now it was too late. Most of those people were dead now, and she wondered if they knew how much she missed them. She wondered if they knew how much she loved them._

_But she'd long since learnt that time should be taken in the here and now. If you spent too much time thinking of the past it would destroy you, ashes to ashes. The future was a taboo as well; there was no guarantee, no certainty. No, there was only the present, and one had to do the best they could with that._

_They stood a very long time, watching each other; waiting. He wanted to know if she was willing, she wanted to know how much he was prepared to give._

"_There's no one here. Just us." He interrupted her thoughts abruptly, drawing her eyes to his face. She knew what he meant, there were no ghosts with them now. But that was not true. That was never true._

"_Why do you want me?" she asked instead, surprising him with her directness._

"_Why should I not?" he countered._

"_In this day and time? You should not want anything but to live out your next day."_

_Draco's smile was not meaningless either; it was rueful and ironic. "I'd rather have you and no tomorrow."_

* * *

Draco blinked, finding himself unexpectedly dropped into the present. He found himself looking into the dark orbs, just as he had done back then. She was still the same, still beautiful, still strong, still desirable. And just as untouchable as ever.

"Ginny, we need to go." He addressed her directly, reading the panic in her eyes. The redhead was scared, scared for her baby, scared for him, but not for herself, not for her own future.

"Where?" she whispered.

"He will be back, we need to be gone from this place."

"But this is the place that protects us." There she was, she'd found her feet again. Ginny tugged Arthur closely, and placed her feet apart. She was scared for them, but she would not do anything that she did not agree with.

The winter wind echoed through the trees, sending them creaking in protest. There was no spring on the breeze; spring would not come for a time yet. They still had a long way to go.

"It will not protect us against the remaining Deatheaters, it will not protect us from death," he argued.

"Well, where do you suggest we go then?"

"We need to return."

* * *

Draco watched her potter around furiously, slamming things into the roughly carved cupboards.

"Ginny we have no other choice," he tried to reason calmly.

"I can't go back there!" she replied hotly, not looking at him.

In the background, Arthur began to wail. Draco decided to ignore him for the time being, try and get his mother into a semblance of serenity first.

He grabbed Ginny by the shoulders, forcing her chin up so she was looking at him. She opened her mouth to give him a mouthful no doubt, but never quite got there.

His mouth came down on hers, roughly. She struggled against him, much as she had done the first time. The familiarity there was undeniable though. She had lost herself and found herself in his child, and past flooded back through his kiss. Memories, pain, love hate. Things she thought she had buried for good.

Hogwarts... Persephone... Harry... homework... pumpkin juice... Tom... Divination... Colin Creevey... the twins' pranks... Ron and Hermione... nights of peace... days of learning... safety... Dumbledore. It all came back so vividly, rocking her body with the force of impact.

Here she was. Ginevra Weasley. And she had a cause to fight for.

What was there to fight for?

Life.

* * *

**Responses**

**Yes, sorry for the wait everybody's who's reading this, but this term has actually snowed me in without an ice axe or shovel, I have literally been under this huuuuuuge pile of homework that never ends!!**

**But anyway, enough of the excuses, I will see how much I can get done in the next week! (Half term).**

**Knight-whosays-ni – I'm sorry I keep making you wait! But I assure you it is not on purpose, I just have no time!! It sucks, but I will do my best :)**

**Actrez – again, a re-iteration of sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoyed this instalment, and hopefully more will shortly be on the way.**

**Poky – oh don't worry about the long review time, it's nothing in comparison to my update time. But anyhoo, thank you for your review, was much appreciated!!**

**xxxxx**

* * *


	11. Eleven

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Eleven

The kiss broke, leaving her panting for breath. She opened her eyes slowly finding burnished silver staring straight back at her.

"I'm not just some toy you can play with you know."

His brows dipped in thought, but he didn't pull away from her.

"I'm not playing." If it was a possible, his gaze of steel heightened in intensity.

"That's all you've ever done," she snapped in retort, feeling inexplicably irritated.

"It's been an awfully long game then hasn't it?" He refused to let her make him pull away, it felt too good holding her in his arms.

Silence fell between them, sinking into the cracks and hollows of the small hut. They were linked inextricably to each other; they were both the opposite of one another, but also the reflection. They were made to save each other, but also to destroy, to love, but also to hate, to understand, but also to dismiss. However much they strayed never mattered because there was something – a greater power perhaps, or maybe just plain coincidence – that wouldn't let them stay apart for long, something always called them back.

That didn't mean she would just forget the past.

"Who couldn't you get her back? Why couldn't you save her?" Her voice was hard, but Draco could see salt water pooling beneath her dark pupils.

"I tried," he replied, allowing her to disentangle herself from him.

"You should have tried _harder," _Ginny insisted, her voice choking at the last syllable.

"I'm sorry." His voice echoed with the millions of times he'd said it, his blonde head bowed.

Something within Ginny ignited, a rage. Anger at his meekness, why did he not stand up for himself and his actions? Why couldn't he lift his chin, look her in the eye, and tell her he did all he could? Why wouldn't he point out the Harry, and Dumbledore, and countless others, were just as much to blame as him? Why couldn't he be strong?

"Don't apologise," she snapped, red hair flying. "You're not the person I once loved." With that she was gone, whirled out of the door by an invisible breeze.

Draco stood stock still, watching the door where she had disappeared. What had he done to insight so much rage? There was a lot he regretted, but he could not tell her that.

Should he go after her?

No, he sat calmly by the unlit fire, she would be back. Arthur started to whinge slightly from where he lay, previously asleep, in the corner.

Draco paced to the edges of the makeshift crib and absently pulled the baby into his arms. Ginny's last words ricocheted around his head.

She'd loved him once? Yes, he supposed, at Hogwarts, but he had thrown that all away in carelessness. In ambition. What had she loved about him though?

But how could she blame him singularly for Holly's disappearance? Shouldn't Potter have kept a closer eye on his daughter?

The blonde paced ever more quickly as the thoughts in his brain speeded up with indignance.

Yes, Ginny may own his heart. She always had. But she did not own his mind, and he would not let her blame him for everything that had gone wrong in her life.

Arthur grizzled louder, twisting slightly in Draco's arms and demanding his attention. The ex-Slytherin set about lighting the fire so as to warm the baby, but Arthur would have to wait until Ginny had returned from her stand before he was fed.

* * *

Ginny stalked moodily through the woods, not caring that she was making a lot of noise or that she was walking blindly and did not know where to go. 

A small rivulet halted her progress and forced her to locate herself atop a boulder overlooking the stream. The sky was darkening slowly, casting misty shadows across the naked trees.

She glared at the stream, muttering. "Why did he even come back for me? I mean I didn't need his help anyway." She ignored the falsity of this, instead continuing to glower at the water.

Footsteps shuffled behind her, causing her to stiffen. Ginny knew who it was.

"You shouldn't have followed," she snapped angrily.

A stone skimmed past her to the surface of the water, and then beyond to the opposite riverbank. She watched without comprehension, how was that possible?

"Really?" his voice was monotonic, giving away nothing as usual.

"Yes," she exclaimed, still not turning around. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Is that all you came here to say?" his voice was not plaintive, it was commanding.

"Just a second," Ginny growled spinning to face him. But the words that were about to come died in her throat. She found herself staring at Draco as she had known him many years ago. She could only see half his profile because he was talking to someone else.

To her. Or to a her that was her, then. It was almost confusing enough to hurt.

"So you came all this way just to tell me that we're safe?" His tone was hard as he advanced across the grass. Advanced on a Ginny that she couldn't see.

This was the Draco she'd fallen in love with back then. He had been hard, unforgiving, ambitious… but there was a softer side. A side that allowed his to love her.

But it never stopped him from leaving her.

She scowled. And, before her eyes, the mirage disappeared, leaving nothing but dead trees and scrub where the past had been to visit her.

Ginny watched, wondering. Had she just imagined it? She climbed slowly down from the large stone crevice finally noticing that she wasn't entirely sure where she was…

* * *

Thank you so much to all the people who reviewed!! I love you guys!!!  
Thank god for reviewers is all I say :) 

xx Susannah xx


	12. Twelve

Disclaimer: I own nothing, y'know how it is.

Twelve

Ginny stared into space for a few infinitely long moments, replaying the scene in her head. She remembered that day like it was yesterday, she supposed she always would, the first day that someone had shown an interest in her. Not because she was the youngest of seven, not because she was a Weasley, or Ron's little sister, or even because she knew the Boy Who Lived, but because she was who she was, Ginevra Weasley.

Ironically, the one who gave her this validation was one who – at the time – rarely saw past his own ego, he was a Malfoy and he was destined to walk the path of darkness. Ginny remembered thinking of that then, but such worries dissolved in the face of bright sunshine and day to day worries, Voldemort was a threat, but he could not broach the gates and walls of Hogwarts. His message could not impress itself upon her and her first young love.

In a way she was glad it had not, the memories were so untainted, so pure, so full of love they made her heart burst and flutter. But in another way as well, she could have saved herself tears and pain had she accepted that Draco was not for real, his ambition and pride would never let him stray from the path that his father had set for him, well… not for long anyway.

The redhead surveyed the forest anxiously. She had come from the left, she thought, but she had been in a rage and everything had blurred together on its way past except her thoughts. Ginny began to walk gingerly into the thickset woods, picking her way carefully through a vaguely remembered path.

She walked for awhile, still not seeing anything that stuck in her memory as being definitive for this being the right way. The path widened in front of her and became easily passable; she breathed a sigh of relief, this had to be the way.

Then the small, sensitive hairs on the back of neck began to tingle and stand up. Someone was approaching her…

"_Ginny!" _someone behind her yelled hoarsely. She spun on one foot to find a blurry, but opaque, Harry, pelting towards her. She moved quickly to one side, not quite processing what she was seeing properly. But he ran straight past her anyway, dropping to his knees a couple of metres in front of her. "Ginny! Don't be dead! Please don't be dead!"

She watched without comprehension as a ghostly wand was thrown near her feet and Harry – an innocent 12 year old Harry – turned an invisible person over in his arms. Turned _her_ over.

"Ginny, please wake up," the young Harry pleaded. Ginny felt her heart tensing, _this_ was the boy she'd once fallen in love with.

"She won't wake," a voice whispered near her shoulder. Ginny jumped, the voice from her nightmares ricocheted around her brain. A voice that had haunted her for what seemed like an eternity, haunted her with the prospect of the Chamber of Secrets and her own insecurity and weakness.

Before her eyes, the mirage of Harry and his coming to her rescue dissolved into nothingness, just as Draco had done before.

What was this? A trip down memory lane?

* * *

Draco rocked Arthur nervously in one arm. He studied the forest warily through the open door of the little cabin; there was something foreign abroad in the woods and it made him uneasy.

He should have gone after Ginny, he knew. It wasn't that he didn't think she could look after herself, quite the opposite; she was a survivor, and a Weasley besides, but he'd rather just be there to make _sure._

Arthur gurgled happily in his arms. He looked down at the tiny baby, marvelling again at how _he_ could have made something so innocent, so beautiful, so miraculous.

"Don't worry Son," he said lowly, still unfamiliar with the term for his own flesh and blood. "She'll be back soon enough."

Arthur made a high pitched burble moving his arms and kicking his legs in unison. Draco smiled involuntarily.

The sun was getting low in the sky, it would be dark soon, Ginny would have to hurry. Maybe she was lost? Maybe he _should_ go and find her. But then if she wasn't lost she wouldn't be best pleased if he turned up. He pondered the thought, continuing to rock Arthur lethargically in his arms.

Slowly he became aware of a deep pounding through the ground, deep and echoing. It sounded like drums. He strained his ears trying to catch the sound more fully, but soon he didn't have to – it was getting louder.

Draco could pinpoint the sound now; it was horse's hooves, thundering loudly through the remote countryside. Someone was coming for them, he suddenly thought with complete clarity. But were they friend or foe? He supposed he would find out soon enough.

He put Arthur down gently in his crib, shushing him as he went. The baby didn't stir from the slumber he had fallen into at Draco's chest. He covered the cot with a blanket; he wasn't going to take any chances if who was coming was indeed foe.

Draco fished around in the corner of the rapidly darkening hut, finding his belt knife that he had stowed away there the first night he had arrived.

Abruptly the mounting noise of the hooves died away, Draco stiffened. He stole silently out of the door watching the woods in every direction as often as he could. After a long few moments of inaction a dark figure trotted out of the woods to his right. He stood his ground; they would have to get through him first.

The horseman dismounted about 15yards from where he stood though, trying his horse deftly to a nearby bough. Draco watched his approach suspiciously, never taking his eyes off the figure.

The man – because he saw it was indeed a man now – suddenly dropped to his knees a short distance away from Draco. Draco neither moved nor questioned, simply watched.

"I am here to pay my respects," a gruff voice came from beneath the thick woollen headwear the man wore. "And to protect the baby and his mother on the long road to Hogwarts."

* * *

_Big thanks to Poky, Kim, ShortySC22 and Embellished, your reviews were a great motivation :) _

_And if anyone who is reading this is reading my other stories then next to be updated is As Thunder Rolls, which I will in a coupla days, and the Bestill My Beating Heart. And then the rest, because I haven't updated for aaaages (sorry)._


	13. Thirteen

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Thirteen

The forest was getting dark now; the trees cast their unruly shadows against one another, dappling the path with the silhouetted setting of the sun.

Ginny looked about her nervously, she still wasn't entirely sure where she was, and was exceptionally surprised that Draco hadn't arrived to drag her back. She worried, too, about Arthur; the natural worry, of a mother.

The path seemed to stretch out in front of her forever, always winding away through the trees and out of sight. It almost seemed as though she was travelling the same tract of burled stones over and over, but she thought that may be a trick of the twilight.

The redhead rounded a sharp, overgrown corner in the path and nearly jumped out of her skin. Sitting in front of her, on a fallen log, sat a young man.

A sharp mop of red hair stood out on his forehead and when he looked up at her she found herself falling into familiar icy-grey depths. He had on traditional wizard robes and looked to be about seventeen; Ginny would have noticed her son anywhere.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," Ginny replied slowly; he must be another of her 'visions', because the son _she_ had was not even two months old yet. None of the other images had been able to converse with her though, she frowned.

"Oh you bought the twins with you," he exclaimed, his features breaking into a grin.

She watched as a dark haired young woman went and perched on the log next to him and a pair of red-haired boys arranged themselves cross-legged at his feet.

"Hi cousin Arthur," the one on the left said brightly. "Daddy said you were coming."

"Daddy didn't say you were going to be sitting in the Forbidden Forest though," replied the other doubtfully.

Ginny watched, wondering who these three newcomers were. This visage wasn't of her past; this was an imprint of the future… which meant that that dark-haired young woman could only be…

"Did Holly not tell you?" Arthur smiled down at the identical boys. "We sat here when _we_ were students at Hogwarts."

"Why?" asked the boy on the left, both of whom, Ginny noted, bore a startling resemblance to Charlie.

The dark-haired woman leaned down. "It was because I was sorted into Slytherin and Arthur was in Gryffindor, so we'd come down here when we couldn't see each other at school to talk almost everyday."

"About what?"

Arthur smiled at Holly, his eyes clouding wistfully.

She beamed down at them; "Everything and anything; how his father, our mother and her two brothers had helped put the Wizarding world back together, about what we would do when we grew up and we always talked about how we came to be siblings, rivals and best friends: all at once!"

"Yes," agreed Arthur. "We always played games too and spent so much time together it was unbelievable."

"We still do," added his sister. "Inseparable." They both hitched identical smirks that reminded Ginny forcibly of Draco.

"We're inseparable," piped up one of the boys.

"And we're in different houses too; just like you!" The twins looked so proud of this fact, and Holly and Arthur grinned at them.

"Let's hope it's always that way."

Ginny clutched her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat at a thousand miles an hour. She felt a tear trace a track down her cheek as the image of the four young people faded; two of her brothers had survived? Holly was still alive? How could she get to this place?

She stopped then, and frowned. Holly had said that she and Draco had revived the world of magic, but that couldn't be right: she had vowed never to return – Hogwarts didn't even exist anymore - after all, how would Arthur be educated? She wasn't even sure she wanted him to learn magic; it could be a cruel and crippling tool in the wrong hands.

Ginny revived for a moment, coming out of her reverie. The woods had brightened a little, as she watched the winding path in front of her morphed from the greyness of winter into the gentle heat of summer, the trees sponged with leaves and the path led to a familiar and huge Castle. Warmth filled Ginny's veins and a sense of fulfilment her heart.

The path was long and winding and seemed to stretch on and on, but she knew, then, that this was the path that she must take. For Arthur's sake, for Holly's, for the broken world of magic but, most of all, for herself; it would not be easy, but she could hide from magic no longer.

She could hide from her nature no longer.

Blinking, the image of the towering Hogwarts was gone, instead she saw the small hut that had been her home through the trees and Ginny knew that her lesson was over. She had remembered what she needed to remember, and learned what she needed to know in order to walk the path that had been set out for her.

Mustering her courage, she strode forwards through the trees letting the soothing natural magic wash over her. She was unsurprised to see a strange man standing outside the house. He appeared to be having a conversation with Draco, although the tall blonde seemed to be looking quite defensive.

The redhead knew why he was here; she thought that she may actually have known all along.

Her destiny called; it was time to answer.

_A/N Yes… it's been too long! I'm so very sorry :'(_

_On a slightly different note; a shameless plug for my good friend Aubrianna (who updates for more regularly than I!) if you have time please take a trip to her site; __ Thanks!!_


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